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Into the streets the people came to see their King for once in his life dressed as a humble pilgrim and behaving as one. Looking sad, solemn and truly penitent as he came to the Cathedral. There he was received by the Bishop of London, Gilbert Foliot. Foliot was feeling very uneasy for he had always been jealous of Becket and had been one of his greatest enemies. However, the King did not remind him of this, so intent was he on his own act of penitence. The King’s feet were bleeding from the rough stones of the road and the people looked on in astonishment to see him behave so humbly.
‘Take me to the spot where he was struck down,’ said Henry and when he was conducted there he knelt, and laying his head on the stones wept that his tears might be on the very place where Thomas’s blood had been shed.
The Bishop of London then mounted the pulpit and spoke to all present explaining to them the meaning of this strange spectacle.
‘All you here present know that Henry, King of England, invoking, for the salvation of his soul, God and the Holy Martyr, protests before you that he neither ordered, wished nor wilfully caused nor desired in his heart the death of the martyr. But as it is possible that the murderers availed themselves of some words imprudently escaping him, he declares that he seeks penitential chastisement of the bishops here assembled and consents to submit his bare back to the discipline of the rod.’
The King then rose and addressed the assembly.
‘What the Bishop has said is indeed what I have commanded. I trust my humble penance will be acceptable to God and the late Archbishop. This day I have restored to Canterbury the dignities and rights of the Church; and I have ordered that lights shall be kept burning at the tomb of Thomas à Becket. A hospital shall be built at Southwark and this shall be erected in honour of God and the Blessed Martyr Saint Thomas.’
The Bishop hastened to add that he would associate himself with the building of this hospital and would grant special indulgences to any who contributed to it.
He was fully aware that he should be sharing the King’s penitence for had he not said, after the murder of Thomas à Becket, that his body should either be thrown on a dunghill or hung on a gibbet? This was a very uneasy day for the Bishop of London.
The King now indicated that he was ready for the act of penance and in the midst of bishops, abbots and the priests of the chapter of Canterbury, he went into the crypt where the tomb was situated.
There he removed his clothes and knelt exposing his bare back while each bishop took a whip and struck the King three or four blows.
‘As thy Redeemer was scourged for the sins of men,’ said each bishop as he administered the whip, ‘so be thou scourged for thine own sin.’ The bishops having whipped the King, the priests took the whips and did likewise.
When this was over Henry continued to pray for Thomas. He toured the Cathedral stopping at the shrines to say his prayers and ask forgiveness of his sins, there he remained through the rest of the day and for the night.
The next day he heard Mass and drank holy water which contained a drop of Thomas’s blood.
He then left Canterbury.
His anxieties and the effort of the last hours had affected him deeply. He was suffering from a low fever, but he wished to travel to Westminster and insisted on doing this and when he reached London took to his bed for a day.
It was in London that news was brought to him that the King of Scotland had been taken prisoner.
The King leaped from his bed. Great exultation was in his heart. This was a sign. A sign from Thomas!
‘Thomas à Becket,’ he cried. ‘So you and I are friends once more. Now you will work with me. I shall be invincible. Thomas, you will guard my kingdom for me.’
It seemed as if this were indeed the case for within a few weeks of the King’s penance rebellion was quelled throughout England.
Henry was certain that it was as he had believed. Heaven . .. and Thomas … were pleased with him.
He went to see Rosamund who was installed in his palace now that no secret was made of their relationship. He was still thinking in terms of divorce but he did not want to go too closely into that as yet. Eleanor was safely confined at Salisbury Castle. Let her stay there until his dominions were safe and he could devote his thoughts to some way of getting rid of her. It was not a situation which demanded an immediate solution. Rosamund was as always tenderly waiting to perform her wifely duties; what greater pleasure could he get from their relationship if he married her? But of course he could not marry Rosamund. He had no intention of doing so. If he obtained the divorce it would be for the sake of his dear little Alice.
And now with Rosamund and Alice to appease his sexual hungers and Saint Thomas and Heaven working for him on the battlefield he had much in which to rejoice.
Rosamund’s sons were doing well. He would find places for them that would delight their mother.
‘I think God ca
‘Sometimes I tremble for them,’ said Rosamund.
‘Why should you? They have their father to look to their future.’
‘But bastards, my lord.’
‘A king’s bastards! Remember that.’
Rosamund sighed.
She bathed the wounds on his back made by the whips of the priests and wept over them.
‘My lord, that they should have dared do this to you!’
‘They dared not do aught else. It was at my command, remember.’
Her touch was gentle; her ointments soothing. Dear Rosamund! He thought then that if she had been his Queen he would have been a faithful husband … well, a more faithful one. But even while she tended to his wounds and later when they made love, he was thinking of Alice.
‘Now I am at peace with Heaven, Rosamund,’ he told her. ‘Thomas and I are as we were long ago when he was my Chancellor. We are good friends. He will guard my kingdom for me when I am away. He will intercede with me in Heaven. I have done my penance. My tears have touched the spot where his blood was shed. It is a wonderful feeling, Rosamund, to have admitted a sin and to have gained remission.’
‘I think of it often,’ she answered.
She was a little mournful, which made him impatient. Soon she would be talking of going into a convent. He wanted none of that. He came here to be amused and it pleased him that she should be content with the lot to which he had lifted her.
‘My sins sit heavily upon me,’ she said. ‘Methinks that I am in need of forgiveness.’
‘You, Rosamund! What have you ever done that was not gentle and loving?’
‘I have lived in sin and borne bastards.’
‘You have eased the lot of your King and obeyed him. That is your duty, my dear.’
She sighed and did not answer.
Later he thought her penitent mood was not such a bad thing. If he ever divorced Eleanor he would want to marry Alice. Then nothing could suit him better than that Rosamund should go into a convent to expiate her sins and leave him with a free conscience to marry Alice.
So he would not entirely dismiss this matter of the convent. It was as well to encourage her sinful feelings in case they could be of use later.
He smiled tenderly. He could always trust his Rosamund to please him.
From Woodstock to Westminster to see his little Alice. He was delighted with her.
‘You have grown, my little love. Why you are almost a woman.’
‘Does that please you, my lord?’ she asked anxiously.